1
Prime Suspect The doctor turned the body over. Shefford turned
Lynda Laplante
ONE
Mrs Corinna Salbanna opened her eyes and
looked at the clock when she heard the noise. It
was almost 2 am. Angrily she went downstairs. As
she passed Della Mornay’s room, she noticed the
light was on.
‘That woman!’ she thought. ‘She owes me rent.
She brings men back to her room. Now she leaves
the front door open in the middle of the night.’
She knocked hard on Della’s door.
‘Come on! Open it!’ she shouted. ‘I know you’re in
there.’
There was no
reply. She pushed
the door open.
Della’s room was
as old and dirty as
the other
apartments in the
house. It was
untidy, clothes all
over the place,
and it smelled of
cheap make-up.
Blankets lay on
the floor next to
the bed.
‘Come out of
there right now!’ Mrs Salbanna cried. ‘I want to
speak to you!’
She pulled back one of the blankets. She opened
her mouth to scream, but no sound came.
Chief Detective Officer John Shefford was the last
person to arrive at the house. Two police cars and
an ambulance were already there. A group of
curious neighbours stood near the gate.
The policemen stood back when Shefford walked
into the house. They all knew and respected him.
At the bottom of the stairs, he stopped for a
moment. He had investigated many murders ‘in
his time’ but this one was different. He forced
himself to go upstairs.
Detective Officer Bill Otley was waiting for him.
‘It’s Della Mornay, boss,’ he said quietly.
Inside the room the police doctor was examining
the body and speaking into a tape machine.
‘She’s lying on her face. Her hands are tied
behind her back…’ The doctor waved at Shefford
and continued, ‘… a lot of blood on her head and
face, serious injuries to her shoulders and chest.
She probably died about 12.30 am.’
away; he could not look at her. She had been
pretty; now her face was destroyed. Her hair was
covered in blood. One eye was completely gone.
‘Her name’s Della Mornay,’ Shefford said. ‘She’s a
prostitute. I’ve seen her before.’
There was a small book lying under the bed. The
doctor did not notice when Shefford picked it up
and gave it to Otley without a word. Otley put the
book in his pocket. He would do anything for
Shefford. Seven years ago, when Otley’s wife
died, Shefford was the only person who
understood his anger and sadness. Shefford was
at the hospital the night Ellen died. He did
everything he could to help. He was always there
when Otley needed him and, in the months after
Ellen’s death,
Otley spent a lot of time with Shefford and his
family. Shefford was his friend as well as his boss.
He loved the man, admired him. Otley would do
anything for him.
All morning the investigation continued. The
doctor continued to examine the body. ‘She was
killed with a small sharp object, maybe a tool. She
had sex with someone before she died. We can
do DNA tests to find the blood type of the person
who killed her. And something else - there are
marks on her arms and wrists. She was tied….’
Policemen searched Della’s apartment. The
murderer had not stolen anything - her jewellery
and money were still there. All the prostitutes and
call girls who knew Della were interviewed. No
luck. Nobody had seen her for many weeks. They
thought perhaps she had gone north to visit a
friend, but they did not say who.
At 11 am, Chief Detective Officer Jane Tennison
parked her car outside the police station. It was a
cold clear day and she hurried to her office. For
three months she had worked on a financial case
and she was bored. She had moved to this police
department to work on interesting cases, not to
sit at a desk all day.
‘Why’s Shefford here?’ she asked Police Officer
Maureen Havers.
‘He’s got a new investigation. A prostitute was
murdered last night in Milner Road.’
‘How did Shefford get the case?’ Tennison asked
angrily. ‘I thought he was on holiday. I was here
until after ten last night.’
Maureen shook her head. ‘I don’t know.’
Tennison wanted to shout with anger. For
eighteen months she had waited for a murder
case but every time something happened, every
time there was a murder case, it was given to one
of the male officers. Murders were ‘man’s work’, it

seemed. She stormed out and banged the door
behind her.
Shefford received the message on his car radio
that evening. DNA tests showed that Della Mornay
had had sex with the same man who had
attacked a woman in 1988.
‘George Arthur Marlow. In prison for eighteen
months although he said he wasn’t guilty, said he
didn’t even know the victim. He has the same
DNA as the man who murdered Della, no question
about it. He’s our prime suspect all right.’
Shefford drove straight back to the station to pick
up the papers he needed to arrest Marlow. ‘Right,’
he said, putting on his coat again. ‘Let’s go and
get him.’
Jane Tennison opened the door of the small
apartment she shared with her boyfriend, Peter
Rawlings. They had lived together for three
months now. Peter came out of the kitchen and
smiled at her. ‘Bad day?’ he asked. She nodded,
walked through to the bedroom and threw her
coat on the bed.
‘Want to talk about it?’ Peter asked.
‘Later,’ she said. ‘Let me have a bath first.’
Jane and Peter had been friends for a long time
before they started living together. Peter had
been married and had a young son, Joey. When
his marriage ended, he spent a long time talking
to Jane about what had gone wrong. Over the
months they saw each other nearly every day and
grew closer until Jane suggested that Peter
moved into her flat.
Later, when they were eating dinner, she told him
about her problems at the police station. He was
a good listener, caring and thoughtful. She had
become very fond of him, she realised with
surprise. She told him about the way Shefford and
the other men did not respect her.
‘They think I’m a joke,’ she said angrily. ‘My boss
won’t let me work on murder investigations. He
tells me to be patient.’
Peter touched her hand. ‘You’ll get something
soon.’
Shefford stood at the door of George Marlow’s
house. Marlow seemed amazed by the arrival of
the police. He stood there holding his cup of
coffee, unable to understand what they wanted.
‘I’m arresting you as a murder suspect.’
Moyra, Marlow’s wife, came out. ‘What do you
want? Where are you taking him?’ she screamed.
‘He hasn’t had his dinner….’
The policemen did not reply. They led Marlow out
to the police car. Two officers began to search the
2
house from top to bottom, looking for something
that would prove that Marlow had killed Della
Mornay. Moyra watched them; her eyes were cold
and hard. She hated policemen, hated them.
Jane lay in bed next to Peter.
‘So what will you do?’ he asked.
‘I’m not leaving. They may want me to leave, but
I won’t. One day I’ll get a murder case and then
I’ll show them how good I am….’
Peter sighed. Jane thought about her work all the
time. It was the only thing she talked about.
At the police station George Marlow was quiet but
helpful. He asked to telephone his lawyer.
Shefford prepared to question him.
‘OK, I’m ready. I know he’s the killer,’ he told
Otley. ‘Let’s get in there and make him admit it.’
He kicked open the door and walked into the
room where Marlow was waiting, his hands on his
knees and his head down. Marlow looked up,
surprised.
‘George? I’m Chief Detective Officer John Shefford
and this is Detective Officer Bill Otley. We want to
ask you a few questions before your lawyer gets
here, OK?’
He smiled and offered Marlow a cigarette. ‘You
smoke, George?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Good. Right… can you tell me where you were on
the night of January 13th? Take your time.’
'January 13th? Saturday? That’s easy. I was at
home with Moyra. We watched television. Yeah, I
was with my wife.'
‘Where were you at about ten o’clock?’
‘I was at home. Oh no, no, wait a minute, I
wasn’t at home.’
‘Going to tell me where you were, then, George?’
Marlow smiled. ‘I went out for a while. I met a
girl. You know, a prostitute.’
‘Met her before, had you?’
Marlow shook his head. ‘No, it was the first time
I’d seen her. She was outside the train station at
Ladbroke Grove. I stopped and asked her how
much.’
‘But you’re sure you hadn’t seen her before? Della
Mornay?’
‘Della Mornay? Who’s Della Mornay?’ asked
Marlow.
TWO
The interview continued throughout the day.
‘After we had sex, I took her back to Ladbroke
Grove and paid her,’ Marlow said. ‘The last time I
saw her, she was looking into another car, a red…
maybe a Scirocco… I’m not sure what type it was.
I thought she’d found another customer.’
‘And then what did you do, George?’

‘I went home.’
‘What time was that?’
‘I can’t remember. Ask Moyra.’
‘Did you know the girl?’
‘I’d never seen her before. Like I said, she just
came over to my car.’
Shefford showed him a photograph of Della
Mornay. ‘Come on, George.’ Shefford was
impatient. ‘Was this the girl?’
‘I can’t remember. It was dark….’
In another room, Moyra was asked the same
questions again and again. What time did Marlow
come home? Did he go out again? She gave the
same answers every time. Marlow came home at
10.30. They watched television and went to bed.
When the police let her go, Detective Officer
Burkin was sent back to the house with her. He
had orders to collect Marlow’s car, a brown Mark
III Rover. He took two officers with him and they
drove Moyra home. There was no sign of the
Rover. It was not parked on the street near the
house.
‘Someone has probably stolen it,’ Moyra said. ‘I
wouldn’t be surprised if you took it yourselves!’
It was 11.30pm when Shefford stopped asking
Marlow questions. He had twenty four hours to
find evidence that connected Marlow with the
murder. If he couldn’t find a link, he would have
to let Marlow go home.
‘Find Marlow’s car,’ he told Burkin. ‘I want to
search it.’
Next morning, Shefford sat at his desk looking
through the notes on the case. Otley brought him
a cup of coffee.
‘Did Burkin find the car?’
‘No,’ Otley said. ‘It isn’t parked near the house.
Moyra says it must have been stolen.’
‘Find it. And Otley, check something for me, will
you? There was a girl murdered in Oldham when I
worked there. Bring me the information on her.’
‘Do you think Marlow murdered her as well?’
‘Maybe. I want to check it out.’
Otley pulled Della Mornay’s diary out of his
pocket. ‘What shall I do with this?’
‘Keep it. I’ll look through it later. I’m going to see
the boss and tell him what has happened.’
Jane Tennison arrived at work soon after
Shefford. His car was badly parked so it was
difficult to find space for her own car next to it. As
she walked into the office, she saw Otley.
‘I hear you’ve got a suspect,’ she said.
‘Yeah. We arrested him yesterday. His DNA
matches the killer’s.’ Otley spoke sharply to
Tennison. Like his boss, he did not enjoy talking
to her. He hated ambitious women.
3
Later that morning, Tennison went to see her
boss, Chief Inspector Kernan, to complain about
the murder cases always being passed to male
officers. ‘If you’re unhappy at this police station,
you can move to another one,’ Kernan said.
‘I don’t want to move. I want to know why
Shefford got this case when he was on holiday!’
‘He knew the victim.’
‘So did I! I knew the victim!’ Tennison shouted. ‘I
arrested her two years ago.’
Kernan told her again that she must be patient.
He was pleased when she left his office. She was
a good officer, but she was a woman and he did
not like working with women. He, like Shefford
and Otley, believed that crime investigation was
better done by men. He would be happy when
she left the station and went elsewhere.
Later, Shefford also went to see Kernan.
‘It looks good, John,’ Kernan said. ‘Are you OK?
You don’t look too good.’
‘Just tired,’ Shefford replied. ‘We’ve been working
on this case all day and all night. We need more
evidence but there’s blood on Marlow’s coat. If
that matches Della’s blood type, we’ve got him!’
As he spoke, Shefford felt a strong pain in his
chest.
Kernan looked at him. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘I don’t know. I’ve got… a… pain…’
Shefford couldn’t breathe. The pain got worse.
Suddenly he fell, hitting his head on the corner of
Kernan’s desk.
Kernan telephoned for a doctor. Otley tried to
help his boss stand up, but Shefford could not
move. His eyes were closed. Tennison heard
somebody shouting outside her office. A doctor
ran past.
‘What is it?’ she asked.
‘Shefford’s ill.’
Shefford’s heart failed and he died before the
ambulance reached the hospital. Tennison sat in
her office. She did not like Shefford but she was
sorry he was dead. And now somebody else
would have to lead the Della Mornay case. Kernan
called his boss, Geoff Trayner, to discuss the
situation.
Somebody must take over the Della Mornay case
and although neither man liked Tennison they
knew she was waiting.
‘The men won’t want to work for her,’ Kernan
said, ‘but who else can we use? None of the other
senior officers are available.’
‘Right. Put her in charge of the case,’ Trayner
said, ‘but watch her carefully. If she does
anything wrong, we’ll get rid of her.’

THREE
Otley was the last person to arrive at the meeting.
All the police officers in the room were silent.
They had admired their boss and now Shefford
was dead. Kernan stood up and began to speak.
‘I’ve looked at the Marlow case and I think we can
charge him with Della Mornay’s murder. I’m
bringing in another senior officer to take over the
case. You all know Chief Detective Tennison….’
There was a shout of protest from the men. Otley
stepped forward. ‘I’m sorry sir, but you can’t let
her take over. We don’t want her! We’ve worked
as a team for five years. Bring in someone we
know.’
‘She’s the only officer available,’ Kernan said, ‘and
she’s taking over the case. There’s nothing more
to discuss.’
He left the room quickly before there were any
more protests. Tennison was going to have
trouble working with these men.
Otley emptied everything out of John Shefford’s
desk. His eyes filled with tears as he looked at the
photographs of Shefford’s family. He was still
sitting at the desk when Burkin came in,
‘Tennison’s checking through the evidence. Do
you want to speak to her?’
‘I don’t even want to be in the same room as her,’
Otley said.
Tennison read all the reports on the Della Mornay
case, then she and Detective Jones went to see
Mrs Salbanna at the house in Milner Road. The
woman couldn’t tell her anything.
‘She didn’t pay her rent,’ she complained. ‘When
will you police finish looking at her room? I could
rent it to someone else. I need the money.’
‘You saw the body,’ Tennison said. ‘Are you
certain it was Della Mornay?’
‘Who else could it be?’ Mrs Salbanna asked.
‘How well did you know Della?’
‘I didn’t know her, I rented a room to her. I didn’t
see her often, only when I collected the rent. And
she was always late paying that….’
Tennison looked around Della’s room. There were
still some clothes and shoes in the cupboard. She
looked carefully at the shoes. Next, Tennison
went to look at Della Mornay’s body. Someone
had cleaned her and combed her hair but the
deep cuts on her face were still there. Tennison
looked at the marks on Della’s arms.
‘She was tied by the top of her arms and her
wrists,’ the doctor said. ‘And there’s a small cut on
her hand.’
‘Where?’
4
The doctor showed her a small cut on the girl’s
wrist. ‘It was quite deep, so it must have bled a
lot.’
Tennison nodded and turned to Jones.
‘We arrested Della before so we must have a copy
of her fingerprints. Check them with the
fingerprints from the body.’
‘We’ve already done that,’ Jones said.
‘Well, do it again. Now.’
That night, as Peter watched television, Jane
Tennison continued reading her notes on the
case. She looked very tired.
‘Come to bed, Jane,’ Peter said.
‘Soon. I want to finish this.’
Peter went to bed. Jane did not come with him.
She worked all through the night and fell asleep
sitting at her desk. At nine o’clock when Tennison
entered the meeting room, all the officers were
silent. They didn’t try to hide how much they
disliked her.
‘You know that I am now in charge of this case.
I’m sorry about Shefford - I know you are upset
and shocked by his death. I hope that you’ll co-
operate with me to close the case.’ She looked at
their faces. ‘If any of you don’t want to work with
me, then you can move to another case.’
None of the men spoke.
Otley looked at her with hatred.
‘OK. Now here’s the bad news,’ she continued.
‘This is a photograph of Della Mornay and this is a
photograph of the murder victim. Their
fingerprints are not the same. Their feet are
different sizes. Our victim is not Della Mornay.
Somebody made a mistake.’
‘You know Shefford identified her,’ Otley shouted.

‘Then he was wrong. I want to know how Marlow
knew her name. At the beginning of his first
interview, he said he didn’t know the girl. By the
end of the second interview, he was calling her
Della! How did he find out her name?’
Otley opened his mouth to interrupt but she did
not notice him.
‘We have to start again. We have to find out who
the dead girl is and where Della Mornay is. I think
Marlow is involved in this case, but if we don’t
find more evidence, we can’t charge him. So we
need to work quickly.’
Nobody spoke as she walked to the door, but
when she left the room, all the men started
talking.
‘I hate her,’ Otley said. ‘John Shefford only died
yesterday and she’s trying to make him look like a
fool.’
When Tennison went to interview Marlow, she
was surprised by how handsome he was.
Handsome, polite, wearing an expensive suit. She
introduced herself. ‘You know what happened to
John Shefford. I’m Chief Detective Tennison. I am
now in charge of this case. I need to ask you
some more questions.’ Marlow repeated his story.
He saw the girl near the station and offered her
money to have sex with him.
‘And you’re sure you’d never seen her before?’
‘Which girl?’
‘Della Mornay. You knew her then, didn’t you?’
‘No, I didn’t know her name. I’d never seen her
before. Mr Shefford told me her name.’
‘OK. Then what happened?’
‘We had sex, in the back seat of my car. When
she climbed out of the car, she cut her hand on
the edge of the radio. I gave her my handkerchief
to wrap around her hand because there was
blood on her fingers. Then I took her back to the
station. She got out of my car and went to
another car - a red one. I suppose she found
another customer.’
‘And you’re sure you’d never seen her before?’
‘No, and I wish I hadn’t seen her then. I was so
stupid.’
Otley knocked on the door and Tennison went
outside to speak to him.
‘We’ve found some blood on his coat. It’s the
same type as the victim’s. We’ve got him!’
‘No we haven’t,’ Tennison replied. ‘He says that
the girl cut her hand in his car - that explains the
blood. And Shefford told him Della’s name. We
haven’t enough evidence to prove that he did the
murder. If we went to court with this case they
would find him not guilty immediately.’
Tennison interviewed Marlow for another hour.
Finally she collected her papers together. ‘Just
5
one more question, Mr Marlow. You drove home.
Is that right?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you have a garage?’
‘No, I left the car outside the house. The police
say they can’t find it. Do you think it’s been
stolen?’
Tennison did not reply. She was walking to the
door when Marlow stopped her.
‘Excuse me. Can I go home now?’
‘No. I’m sorry, Mr Marlow, but you can’t.’
Otley was sitting in the meeting room talking to
Burkin when Tennison walked in with a big, dark-
haired man.
‘This is Detective Tony Muddyman. He starts work
with us tomorrow. I’ve told him something about
the case, but you can tell him the details.’
Muddyman knew some of the officers and they
greeted him. Otley was not sure about him. He
did not want any friends of Tennison’s working on
the team.
Tennison picked up a piece of paper from Otley’s
desk.
‘Are these the names of girls who’ve been
reported missing?’
‘Yeah. It says Missing Persons Report on the top
of it.’
‘Cut it out, Otley,’ Tennison said sharply. She
looked at the list. ‘One in Brighton, one in Surrey,
one here in London… I’ll visit them.’
She reached for the telephone as it rang. It was
Peter. She turned away from the men in the room
as she talked to him.
‘I’m sorry, I can’t talk now. Is it important?’
Burkin came into the room looking for her.
‘We’re ready to search Marlow’s house again,’ he
said.
Tennison promised to call Peter back later. She
put the telephone down and went to join Burkin.
‘We’re looking for a handkerchief,’ she said. ‘One
with blood on it.’
Tennison and Burkin knocked on the door of
Marlow’s house. They waited a long time before
the door was pulled open. Moyra Henson stood
there. Tennison looked carefully at her. It was the
first time she had seen Marlow’s wife. She knew
Moyra was thirty-eight but she looked older. She
wore expensive clothes and a lot of make-up.
‘Yes?’ she asked.
‘I’m Chief Detective Tennison….’
‘So what?’
Tennison noted the good jewellery which Moyra
wore, expensive bracelets, lots of rings… her nails
were long and red.
‘We want to search this house. We have the
necessary papers. I’d like to ask you a few
questions while Detective Burkin looks around.’

‘I don’t have much choice, do I?’ Moyra said as
she let them in.
The house was tidy and well decorated.
‘This is very nice,’ Tennison said.
‘What did you expect? George works hard, he
earns plenty of money. Have you found his car
yet? It’s your fault it’s gone. Somebody will have
seen you take him away and stolen the car.’
‘I can’t give you any information about the car. I
just want to have a chat with you. I’ve taken over
the investigation. The other inspector died
suddenly.’
‘Good! The fewer police, the better!’
‘How do you feel about your husband picking up a
prostitute, Moyra?’ Tennison asked.
‘Wonderful! How do you think I feel?’
‘What about the girl he attacked before he went
to prison?’
‘He didn’t do anything. That woman was crazy.
Maybe George had too much to drink, but he
didn’t attack her.’
‘Was he drunk when he came home on Saturday
night?’
‘No, he was not!’
‘And what time did he arrive home?’
‘Half past ten. We watched television and we
went to bed.’
Tennison took a photograph from her bag and
showed it to Moyra. ‘This is the girl he admits he
had sex with. Look at her.’
‘So what? I’m sorry the girl’s dead but what do
expect me to do about it? Plenty of men have sex
with other women.’
‘One more question, Moyra. Did you know Della
Mornay?’
‘I’ve never heard of her.’
‘Never?’
‘No.’
‘And you’re certain George didn’t know her?’
Moyra folded her arms across her chest. ‘I’ve
never heard of her.’
Tennison put the photograph back in her bag.
Thank you for your time,’ she said.
As they left the house, Burkin told her that he had
not found any handkerchief with blood on it.
Otley and Jones searched through a list of all the
girls who had been reported missing in London
during the last month, then they began visiting
their homes. One of them could be the murder
victim. The first apartment they visited was in a
good neighbourhood but the apartment itself was
untidy and dirty. A tall blonde haired girl opened
the door.
‘My friend, Karen, has been missing for about two
weeks. Nobody has seen her. I thought she was
staying with her boyfriend, but she isn’t.’
‘Do you have a photograph of her?’ Otley asked.
6
When he looked at the photograph of the pretty
young girl he knew immediately he had found the
name of the murder victim.
Tennison and Burkin visited two other families
who had reported missing daughters. Neither of
them was anything like the murdered girl.
‘Otley has done this on purpose. He knew these
couldn’t be the girls. He’s trying to make me look
stupid,’ she thought.
As they drove back to London, Tennison asked
Burkin, ‘What do you think of Marlow?’
Burkin answered slowly. ‘I think he did it. There’s
something about him. I don’t know what, but I
think he’s our man.’
Tennison stared out of the car window, talking
more to herself than to Burkin. ‘You know, being
a woman in my position isn’t easy. I have feelings
about people, but they’re probably different to
yours. As a man, you feel that Marlow did it.
Why? Why do you think it’s him?’
‘He had sex with her. We know that,’
‘That doesn’t make him the murderer. We have to
find the links, the connections. His wife supports
him. He’s been in trouble before, but she still
supports him.’
‘I still think it’s him,’ Burkin said.
‘You can’t charge a man because you think he’s
guilty. You have to have evidence.’
At that moment, a message came over the radio.
The officers had searched every inch of Della’s
flat. There was no evidence to show that Marlow
had ever been there, not a single hair.
Tennison leaned back in her seat. ‘How did he get
in there and walk away without leaving anything
behind?’
The third house they visited belonged to a rich
family. The door was opened by a man.
‘Major Howard? I’m Chief Detective Tennison and
this is Detective Burkin. We want to ask you some
questions about your daughter.’
He let them into the house. ‘Of course. Do come
in.’
He led them into a large room with big windows
which looked out onto the garden. The elderly
man turned to them. ‘Please sit down. What can I
do for you? Is something wrong?’
‘We’re looking for your daughter. Nobody has
seen her for two weeks.’
‘What? Is this a joke?’ The man looked upset, but
Tennison kept on questioning him.
‘Do you have a photograph of your daughter?’
When the Major showed her a photograph,
Tennison knew immediately who it was.
‘I’m sorry, sir,’ she said. ‘I have to tell you that I
think your daughter is dead.’

Otley and Jones spent the rest of the afternoon
interviewing prostitutes. None of them could
remember when they last saw Della.
‘These women make me angry,’ Otley said. ‘We
should get rid of them all. They’ll do anything for
money.’ Jones did not reply.
‘My wife,’ Otley went on, ‘was a good woman. She
never hurt anybody and she died. Why did she
have to die? Why not one of these women?’
Tennison led Major Howard into the room where
the body was lying.
‘Are you ready?’ she asked him. He nodded.
She pulled back the blanket which covered the
body.
‘Major Howard, is this your daughter, Karen Julia
Howard?’
He stared at the dead girl. Tennison waited. After
a long time, he nodded. ‘Yes, this is my daughter.’
There were many questions which Tennison
wanted to ask him, but he spoke first.
‘How did she die? How long has she been here?
Why wasn’t I told before? Who is in charge of this
investigation?’
Tennison interrupted. ‘I’m in charge.’
‘You? Let me speak to Commander Trayner. He’s
a friend of mine. I will not have a woman in
charge! Let me see the Commander.’
Tennison opened her mouth to reply but Burkin
stopped her.
‘Leave him alone,’ he said. ‘He’s upset.’
‘I have many friends,’ the Major shouted. ‘I know
many people who could lead this investigation….’
Then he began to cry like a small child. Tennison
was ashamed of herself for wanting to question
him. She left the Major and Burkin together. The
young police officer put his arm across the older
man’s shoulders as he kept on crying.
FOUR
Next morning, Kernan had three visitors. The first
was Tennison with a report that the murder victim
had been identified. Second was Otley,
complaining that Tennison was a bad police
officer.
‘We should have charged Marlow with the
murder. We have the results of the DNA tests. We
know he did it. She’s no good.’
The third visitor was Arnold Upcher, Marlow’s
lawyer. ‘I think you should look at these cases,
Chief Superintendent. In each one, the evidence
depended on DNA tests and in each one the
accused was found not guilty. Mr Marlow has said
he was at home when the girl was murdered and
you don’t have enough evidence to prove he
committed the murder. You have to let him go.’
7
Tennison interviewed the girl who lived with
Karen. ‘The last time I saw her, she was going to
work. She was a fashion model. She was always
so happy.’ The girl burst into tears.
Michael, Karen’s boyfriend, could not help.
‘We argued. I haven’t seen her for a few weeks. I
was on holiday until the 13th of January. When I
came home I telephoned the apartment and her
friend said she wasn’t there. Then I telephoned
her parents’ house but they hadn’t seen her since
Christmas. So I went to the police and reported
that she was missing.’
‘Where were you on the night of the thirteenth?’
‘At my parents’ home. They’ll tell you I was there
all night.’
At 6.15pm, Kernan said they must let Marlow go
home. There was not enough evidence to prove
that he murdered Karen and the police had kept
him as long as they could.
Tennison broke the news to the other police
officers. ‘We keep investigating him until we find
the evidence.’
‘You shouldn’t have let him go!’ Otley shouted. ‘If
Marlow kills another girl, it will be your fault.’
‘That’s enough, Sergeant Otley,’ Tennison said,
‘This case was handled badly from the beginning.
There is not enough evidence to charge him, so
we will keep searching for more until we can
bring him back and keep him here.’
Tennison opened her car door. Marlow ran up to
her.
‘Excuse me, Miss,’ he said. ‘I wanted to thank
you. I knew you would help me.’
Tennison stared at him. He was handsome, he
looked innocent, but she knew that he was the
murderer. She was certain that he was involved.
Marlow got into a taxi. A moment later, Otley ran
up to Tennison’s car.
‘I’ve just had a telephone call. They’ve found
another body. She was attacked and her hands
were tied. From the description, it’s Della Mornay.’
It was after 8pm when Tennison and Otley
reached the field where the body lay. It was
raining hard and the ground was muddy. The
body was covered with dirt. It had been there for
a long time. Tennison looked at the face.
‘I think you’re right. It looks like Della Mornay.’
Although the body was covered with mud, she
could see the marks on the girl’s arms. They were
the same as the marks on Karen’s body.
‘You shouldn’t have released Marlow,’ Otley said.
‘He probably did this one too.’
‘I had to let him go. If Shefford hadn’t made so
many mistakes at the beginning of the
investigation….’

‘Don’t you talk about my boss like that!’ Otley
shouted. ‘He was a good policeman. He knew
Marlow was the killer. He thought he’d done
another murder in Oldham….’
‘What? Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘He wasn’t certain.’
‘There must be reports on this other case. I want
them on my desk tomorrow morning. And Otley…
if you hide any more information from me, I’ll
have you moved to another department.’
FIVE
Peter Rawlings was cooking dinner when Jane
telephoned him.
‘Sorry, love,’ she said. ‘I won’t be coming home
tonight. We’ve found another body.’
He knew that she must be exhausted. She had
not slept for more than thirty-six hours. At the
same time, he was annoyed. She had no time to
spend with him. She never had time to talk about
his work or his problems. He was having a difficult
time at work and he missed Joey, his son. He
wanted to talk to Jane but she was never there.
Tennison stood up from her desk. She had been
sitting for hours and she was stiff and tired. She
went into Otley’s office to see if he was still there.
Maybe she could speak to him and persuade him
to stop working against her. Otley wasn’t there.
On his desk there were some photographs of
Shefford and his family. Next to them were the
case notes on Della Mornay. She opened the file.
Underneath a pile of papers, there was a small
book, a diary for 1989 with Della’s name written
on the front page. Nobody had told Tennison they
had found a diary. She looked through it. Some
pages were missing.
It was so late when Tennison got home that she
did not want to wake Peter. She slept in the other
bedroom. Peter found her there in the morning,
lying across the bed. He took her a cup of coffee.
‘Jane… Jane!’
‘What?… What?’
‘Hey, it’s OK, it’s me. I brought you some coffee.’
‘What time is it?’
‘Just after six-thirty. I have to go.’
‘Oh no! I have to hurry! I have to….’ She fell back
on the pillows. ‘I’m so tired.’
‘What time will you be home tonight?’ Peter
asked.
‘Don’t ask me.’
‘I am asking you. I’ve hardly seen you for three
days. I thought we might go out somewhere for
dinner.’
It was the last thing she wanted to think about.
Still half asleep, she drank her coffee.
8
‘I’ll try to be home by eight, OK?’ she said.
Tennison took Jones with her when she went to
look at the body. The smell of the body made her
feel sick. Jones took one look then had to leave
the room.
‘She has similar wounds to the other victim,’ the
doctor said. ‘She was killed with a small, sharp
knife or tool. Deep cuts to her chest and
shoulders. Her face was badly beaten. Marks on
her arms show that she was tied up. The hands
were washed. She must have fought the person
who attacked her - she had false nails and two of
them are broken.’
‘Do you think the same man killed her?’ Tennison
asked.
‘I can’t be certain, but it is possible. Whoever it
was, he cleaned the body well and left no
evidence of himself.’
Tennison found Jones sitting outside the door. He
looked very pale.
‘OK,’ she said cheerfully. ‘If you’re feeling better,
you can drive me back to the station.’
‘Sorry about that, boss,’ Jones replied. ‘I must
have eaten something last night that made me ill.’
Tennison smiled.
At nine o’clock George Marlow left his house and
went to the factory where he worked. He did not
see the two policemen who followed him.
Marlow worked for a company which made paint.
His job was to sell the paint to shops and he often
travelled across the country on business trips
which took him away from home for two or three
days. He was good at his job, he worked hard and
his colleagues respected him. They knew that he
had been to prison, but he said he wasn’t guilty
and they believed him. That morning, nobody
spoke to Marlow when he went into the factory.
Later in the day, it got worse. When he walked
into a room, people turned away. They knew the
police had arrested him for murder. They might
believe that he was innocent once, but not twice.
Late that afternoon, Marlow wrote a letter.
‘I’m leaving this job,’ he wrote. ‘I cannot work in a
place where people suspect me.’
As he walked out of the factory he shouted, ‘I
didn’t do it! I didn’t do it!’
Tennison was talking to the officers on the case.
‘She died about six weeks ago. Like Karen, she
was killed somewhere else and then taken to the
field. She was tied up like Karen. What have you
found out, Muddyman?’
‘Marlow went to work today, but he’s left his job.
He travels a lot.’
‘Where was he at the beginning of December?’
‘He was in London.’

‘Right, so we know he was in London when both
murders took place. Have we found Marlow’s car
yet?’
‘No. None of his neighbours have seen it for about
two weeks.’
‘Keep searching for it,’ Tennison said. ‘And check
out the area where the second body was found.
See if anyone saw a car like his. It’s an unusual
model. Somebody must have seen it.’
After the meeting, she went to see Kernan. Otley
was with him. ‘I want to ask Sergeant Otley a
question, sir,’ Tennison said. ‘How well did DCI
Shefford know Della Mornay?’
‘He’d arrested her a few times,’ Otley said. ‘She
used to give him information.’
‘If he knew her, why did he think the body of
Karen Howard was Della Mornay?’
‘Her face was almost destroyed. Anyone can make
a mistake….’
‘What is this about?’ Kernan asked.
‘I want to know how well Shefford and Otley
knew Della Mornay. And I want to know why this,’
she threw the diary on Kernan’s desk, ‘was in
Otley’s desk.’
Otley did not reply.
There are pages missing,’ Tennison said. ‘What
was in those pages?’
‘The dates when Shefford went to see her. He
liked her - he was one of her customers,’ Otley
said. He did not look at Tennison as he spoke.
Tennison turned to Kernan. ‘I still think Marlow is
our prime suspect. I want him watched all the
time. If he’s killed twice, he could kill again.’
Kernan nodded and she continued. ‘I also want to
talk to the newspapers and television about this
case, sir.’
She had won, and she knew it. She walked out
and left them there, closing the door quietly
behind her. There was a moment’s silence then
Kernan shouted, ‘You fool! You’ve destroyed
evidence. You could lose your job for that!’
‘I only tore out the pages which had John’s name
on them, sir,’ Otley said. He stared at the floor.
He could not look at Kernan.
‘You’ve been lucky this time. Tennison could have
finished you.’
Jane arrived home late at night. Peter was waiting
for her.
‘I thought we were going out tonight,’ he said.
‘I forgot. I’m sorry, I meant to phone you but
there’s so much happening at the station.’
The telephone rang. ‘If that’s another call for you
to go back to work,’ Peter said, ‘I shall leave you!’
Jane picked up the telephone. The call was from
her mother.
‘It’s your father’s birthday next Monday and I’m
organising a party,’ her mother said.
9
‘We’ll be there,’ Jane replied.
After she put the telephone down, she
remembered.
‘Oh no! Next Monday I’m appearing on television
to ask for information about Karen Howard’s
murder. It’s one of those crime programmes. It’s
really important… I’m the first female police
officer they’ve asked to go on television.’
‘Which is more important, Jane?’ Peter asked.
This case or your father’s birthday?’
Jane did not answer.
Moyra stood at the bedroom window. She could
see the police officers outside watching the
house.
‘Why won’t they leave us alone?’ she asked. She
began to cry. ‘I just want them to leave us alone.’
‘They will. I promise you Moyra, I didn’t do this
murder. They’ll have to leave us alone.’
‘Why did you have sex with that girl in the first
place?’ Moyra asked.
‘I don’t know. I was stupid. It won’t happen
again, I promise. I love you, Moyra.’
SIX
Jane Tennison
was nervous as
she waited in the
television studio.
The programme
was going to
start soon. She
knew what she
had to do but she
was frightened of
making a
mistake. She was
the first woman
police officer to
appear on a
television crime programme and she had to do
well.
Jane’s parents, her sister Pam and Peter were
watching the television, waiting for the
programme to begin. The birthday party had
started earlier, but they wanted Jane to arrive
before they cut the birthday cake.
‘Peter,’ Jane’s mother said, ‘can you check the
video? Jane wants us to record the programme so
that she can watch it later.’
‘Is the video on the right programme, Mr
Tennison?’ Peter asked.
‘Of course it is. Now be quiet so we can watch.’
Otley sat with the other police officers who were
watching the programme. He hated seeing
Tennison on television. Tennison was doing well.

‘We know that Karen Howard left the office where
she was working at six-thirty on the evening of
the thirteenth of January. She told the people she
worked with that she was going home. She never
returned to her apartment. Were you in Ladbroke
Grove that night, at around six-thirty? Did you see
her?’
A woman police officer, dressed in the same
clothes as Karen had worn, appeared on the
screen.
‘We know that Karen had problems starting her
car. A man saw her trying to start it.’
On the television, a man went over to the girl
dressed as Karen.
‘Got a problem?’
‘Yes. It won’t start.’
The man tried to help but still the car would not
move. He shook his head. ‘I think you’d better call
a garage.’
‘We know that Karen locked her car and walked to
the main road. She was never seen again,’
Tennison went on.
George Marlow stood in front of the television
watching the programme.
‘Turn it off!’ Moyra said. ‘What are you watching
that for?’
‘Because I want to see what she’s saying.
Somebody out there knows what happened - they
know who killed her.’
‘The police think it was you.’
‘Well, it wasn’t. You have to believe me.’
Moyra watched the television with horror as a car
like George’s appeared on the screen. Tennison
was saying that the police needed to find the car
as part of the investigation.
‘George!’ she screamed. ‘They’ve got a car like
yours! They’re giving out the car number!’
Marlow put his head in his hands. ‘Why are they
doing this to me? Why?’
After the programme finished, Jane drove quickly
to her parents’ home. She had forgotten to send
her father a birthday card and present, so she
bought two bottles of wine from the shop near
their house.
‘Well, was I OK?’ she asked. ‘Did you see me on
television? Have you recorded it on the video?
Switch it on - let me see myself.’
Peter switched on the video. Jane sat on the edge
of her chair. The television showed a football
match.
‘What’s this? You’ve recorded the wrong
programme!’
Then she began to shout at her father.
There were only ten phone calls to the police
station after the programme finished. One of
them was useful. A woman called Helen Masters
remembered seeing Karen getting into a car. She
10
gave a description of the driver. He was about
five feet ten inches tall, rather handsome, with
very dark hair. She described George Marlow.
Jane and Peter argued all the way home.
‘Your father just made a mistake,’ Peter said. ‘He
didn’t record the wrong programme on purpose.’
‘He knew how important it was. He always gets it
wrong!’
‘You are so selfish! Don’t you ever think about
anyone except yourself? It was your father’s
birthday and all you could do was shout at him.’
‘It’s always the same. They don’t care about my
job. They think I should be like Pam and have
children….’
Suddenly Jane began to laugh. ‘He’s done this
before, you know. He recorded part of a football
match over the video of Pam’s wedding.’
When she opened the door to the apartment, the
telephone was ringing.
‘We’ve got a witness,’ she said to Peter. ‘A woman
saw Karen get into a man’s car. She says the man
knew Karen - he called out her name. And he
looked like George Marlow. I’m going to question
him again.’
‘Tonight? You’re going back to the station now?’
Quickly, Jane changed her clothes, kissed Peter
and left the apartment. Peter lay back on the bed
and sighed. Sometimes she really annoyed him -
her moods, her temper.
SEVEN
Helen Masters was a good witness.
‘I was standing near the railway station,’ she said.
‘I saw the man first. He had dark hair… Then I
saw the girl. I recognised her later when I saw
her photograph on television. The man walked to
the edge of the pavement and called to her.’
‘You definitely heard him call her name?’ Tennison
asked.
‘Oh yes.’
Helen Masters was asked to identify the man she
had seen. Twelve men stood in a row. Each man
held a number in front of his chest. George
Marlow was number ten.
Helen looked at them through a window. She
could see them but they could not see her. Each
man was asked to step forward and shout the
name ‘Karen’. Eight… nine… ten.
Looking straight ahead, George Marlow called out
‘Karen’ loudly. Helen Masters stared at him for a
long time. The reception area of the police station
was busy. Tennison thanked Helen Masters for
her help, even though she wanted to scream with
anger. Helen had not identified Marlow as the
man she had seen. Marlow left the station with
his lawyer, Arnold Upcher.
As he walked past Tennison, he stopped.

‘Why are you doing this to me?’ he asked. ‘I was
pulled out of bed at four o’clock this morning. You
have a policeman following me all the time. You
know I’m innocent. Why are you doing this?’
‘Get him out of here,’ Tennison said.
Maureen Havers came up to her.
‘Kernan wants to see you.’
‘Tell him you couldn’t find me.’
‘Marlow’s lawyer is with him. He says you
shouldn’t have given out the number of Marlow’s
car on television last night. You could only do that
if the car was reported stolen, and Marlow hadn’t
reported it.’
‘Oh no! Well, do something about it. We all know
that reports of stolen cars can get lost. The report
has probably been put in the wrong drawer,
hasn’t it?’
Maureen nodded and smiled.
Tennison and Jones went to the factory where
Marlow had worked to talk to his boss.
‘Has George always worked in London?’ Tennison
asked.
‘He started work in Manchester. We moved the
factory to London in 1982. George still travelled
around the Manchester area - he knew all the
customers.’
‘Did anyone go with him?’
‘Moyra always went with him. She had family up
there.’
‘I need a list of all the places he visited.’ Tennison
said.
Later that day at a meeting of all the policemen
working on the case, Otley told them what was
happening.
‘These photographs show the bodies of Karen and
Della. You can see that the marks on their bodies
are the same. We know that the DNA tests show
Marlow had sex with Karen before she died, but
he has explained that. He also has a reason why
Karen’s blood was on his coat - he says she cut
herself on his car radio. We have nothing to link
him with Della Mornay. I think his car is
important. We’ve still not found it, but if we do,
there may be enough evidence in it to prove he
did the murders. So find the car!’
Tennison came into the room.
‘Karen didn’t fight when she was attacked. Her
fingernails were short and clean and there was no
blood on them. They had been cleaned with some
sort of brush. Della did fight. Her fingernails were
long and false and she lost three of them.’
‘Did Marlow have any scratches on his body when
we searched him?’ Burkin asked.
‘No he didn’t,’ Tennison replied. ‘We have no
evidence to prove that he killed Della or that he
went to her apartment with Karen’s body. But I
still think he’s the murderer.’
11
Otley went to see Kernan.
‘We’re not making progress,’ he said ‘She’s
making a mess of this case.’
‘Let her continue,’ Kernan said. ‘We can’t get rid
of her unless there’s a good reason. The best
thing you can do is try to co-operate with her.’
‘I miss Shefford,’ Otley said. ‘He was a good
policeman and he was my friend.’
‘We all miss him, Bill But you have to work with
Tennison whether you want to or not.’
As Otley left Kernan’s office, he met Maureen
Havers. She was carrying a pile of reports on
murders in the north of England, in places which
Marlow had visited.
Otley helped her carry the papers.
‘If you find anything in Oldham, Maureen, let me
look at it first.’
‘OK,’ Maureen said.
EIGHT
Maureen Havers complained to Sergeant Otley. It
was the third Sunday she had worked and she did
not like it. She put a pile of boxes on the desk.
‘It’s Sunday. I should be at home with my family,
not working.’
‘Have you found any murders reported in
Oldham?’
Maureen pointed at his desk. ‘The file is on there.’
Burkin ran into the room. He had a newspaper in
his hand.
‘Look at this,’ he said.
Jane Tennison was at home. She hated cooking
but she had promised to make a meal for Peter’s
friends the following night. Her sister Pam was
helping her to plan the menu. The sisters were
very different. Jane had no patience with
housework; Pam loved it. She had married soon
after she had left school and had two children.
Her third child was due in the next two weeks.
Peter came into the room carrying a newspaper.
‘Look at this,’ he said. On the front page of the
newspaper was an interview with Marlow.
‘I’m innocent,’ the story in the newspaper said,
‘but the police are following me and making me
look like a criminal.’
There was a picture of Tennison and some other
officers on the case.
‘That’s spoiled everything,’ Jane said. ‘We can’t
ask witnesses to identify Marlow when they’ve
seen his picture in the newspapers. And these
photographs show which officers are following
him.’
She picked up her coat. ‘I’m going to the police
station.’

In the interview room, someone had pinned a
copy of the newspaper on the wall. Angrily,
Tennison tore it down.
‘OK,’ she said. ‘We’ve all seen the newspapers.’
Otley smiled. ‘Some of them say that women
police officers shouldn’t be in charge of murder
cases like this.’
Before Tennison could reply, Maureen came in.
‘Kernan wants to talk to you,’ she said.
Otley told the officers to start work again. ‘We
have a list of murders which took place in the
north of England. I want you to check for any that
happened when Marlow was in the area.’
‘Have you finished looking at the Oldham reports?’
Maureen asked him.
‘Not yet,’ Otley replied.
He had looked through some of them and he
knew there was a problem. He was not certain
what to do next.
When Tennison came back she told them what
Kernan had said.
‘Marlow is no longer being followed officially, so I
want four officers to watch him without Kernan
knowing.’
‘What else did Kernan say?’ Burkin asked.
‘If I don’t get some evidence against Marlow
soon, I’m being moved off the case,’ she said
quietly.
The officers worked all day and late into the
night.
‘We have several cases which we need to look at,’
Otley told Tennison. ‘Murders in Oldham,
Southport and Warrington.’
‘Make a list of the officers who are available and
send them up to investigate. See if there is any
connection with Marlow,’ she said.
After Otley left, Maureen Havers asked, ‘Why is
Otley so interested in Oldham? Does he have
family up there?’
‘What do you mean?’ Tennison said.
‘Well, he asked me for the reports on murders in
Oldham and now he’s said he wants to go up
there tomorrow.
Slowly, Tennison realised what Maureen was
saying. ‘Let me look at the Oldham reports.’
There was one case which interested her. Jeannie
Sharpe, aged twenty one, a prostitute, murdered
in 1984. The head of the investigation was…
Detective John Shefford. Why was Otley so
interested in this case? It had to be connected
with Shefford. She decided that she would go to
Oldham tomorrow, not Otley.
‘Good morning,’ Jane said to Peter as he came
into the kitchen.
‘Where were you last night?’ he asked
‘I came in late so I slept in the other bedroom. I
didn’t want to wake you.’
12
Peter did not reply.
‘I’ll come home as early as I can tonight,’
Tennison said. ‘I haven’t forgotten your friends
are coming for dinner. I’ll be in Oldham all day.’
She ran out of the apartment. Peter stood looking
at the door.
‘Oldham? That’s two hundred miles away!’
When they arrived in Oldham, Tennison and
Jones were met by Sergeant Tomlins. He told
Tennison and Jones about the murder of Jeannie
Sharpe. ‘She was found in an empty building,’ he
said. ‘She was tied, her face was badly cut,
clothes torn off.’
‘It’s a nasty place to die,’ Tennison said.
‘Well, these prostitutes ask for it!’
‘She was only twenty-one years old, sergeant,’
Tennison replied angrily, but Tomlins was already
walking away.
‘You can talk to some of her friends,’ he said.
‘They’re all prostitutes too. We try to clean them
off the streets but they’re like rats - they keep
coming back.’
The apartment was cold and damp, but somebody
had tried to make it look cheerful. Tennison was
sitting in an old chair beside a table on which
there were two full ashtrays.
She was talking to two of the dead girl’s friends,
Carol and Linda. Carol, a badly dressed but
attractive woman in her thirties, was telling her
about the last time she had seen Jeannie alive.
‘We came out of the pub. There was a car parked
near the corner of the street.’
‘What sort of car?’ Tennison asked.
‘A dark one,’ Linda said. ‘I think it was dark and it
had a lot of silver on the front. Anyway, the driver
called out to Jeannie….’
‘He called out? You mean he knew her name?’
‘I don’t think he called her name, just asked her
how much. She went over and got into the car.
We never saw her again.’
Tennison showed them the newspaper
photograph of Marlow. ‘Was this him?’
‘I don’t know. He had dark hair but I didn’t see
his face.’
‘The police who were working on the case were
horrible,’ Carol said. ‘There was one - Shefford
was his name - they got rid of him.’
‘Why?’ Tennison asked.
‘I suppose they found out about him and Jeannie,’
Carol said. ‘He was one of her customers. He said
he’d look after her.’
‘Poor kid,’ Linda said. ‘She had a bad life. Then
she ended up tied up and dead in some empty
building.’
It was late. Peter checked his watch. He was
waiting for Jane to come home. The front door
crashed open and Jane ran in. ‘I’m sorry! We
 13
were late getting back from Oldham. Don’t worry can change because I’m doing what I always
- the meal will be ready before your friends wanted to do. I have to put everything into my
arrive.’ work….’
She was right. When Peter’s friends arrived, She was telling him that she could never be the
dinner was ready. sort of woman he wanted.
Two hours later, they were still sitting at the table Somebody knocked at the door. ‘That’ll be my
finishing the wine. Jane was bored and she had car,’ she said.
drunk too much. The three men were talking ‘You’d better go.’
about their work and their wives only talked about ‘I don’t know what time I’ll be home tonight.’
clothes.
‘Peter told me you work for the police,’ Sue said. Peter stood in the kitchen after she left, looking at
‘What do you do? Are you a secretary?’ the dirty dishes, then he reached out and knocked
‘No,’ Tennison said. ‘At the moment I’m them all to the floor.
investigating a murder.’
‘I think some women ask for trouble,’ Lisa said. Tennison sat silently next to Jones as he drove.
‘What, ask to be murdered?’ Jane asked. Finally he spoke to break the silence.
‘Not exactly, but….’ ‘Are you OK?’
‘Nobody asks to be murdered,’ Tennison said ‘I want Marlow’s car found,’ Tennison said.
angrily. ‘It could happen to you.’ ‘Trouble at home? My wife was angry when I was
so late getting home. My dinner was burned.’
The telephone rang and Jane went to answer it. ‘The difference is that you get your dinner cooked
As she left the room, she heard Peter say, ‘Sorry for you. I have to cook as well as everything else.’
about that.’
‘Don’t apologise for me,’ Jane shouted. ‘I can Kernan had come
speak for myself.’ in early to talk
After the guests had gone, Jane said, ‘Well, I about the Marlow
think they enjoyed themselves.’ case. He stood
‘Do you?’ Peter asked. ‘Did you have to start and watched as
talking about those women and your case?’ Tennison and
‘Why shouldn’t I?’ Otley shouted at
‘Because it’s always you, Jane. Your job, your life. each other.
You, you, you! You don’t care about anybody ‘George Marlow
else.’ was questioned in
‘That’s not true!’ 1984 about the
‘You care about your officers, your victims, your murder of a
prostitutes. You give all your time to them.’ prostitute called
‘That’s my job!’ Jeannie Sharpe.
‘Tonight was for my job and my friends, but you John Shefford was
still have to take over.’ one of the officers
Suddenly Jane felt very tired, too tired to argue. on the case. He
‘Look,’ she said, ‘I’m sorry. I drank too much was moved to London because it was discovered
wine, and those people were so boring….’ that he was having a relationship with the
‘Do you ever think how boring you are when you murdered girl,’ Tennison said. ‘None of this has
talk about work all the time? How many times been put in the files. We now know that he was
have we talked about George Marlow? Do you having a relationship with Della Mornay. He must
know how boring that is for me?’ have known that he identified the wrong girl. He
‘Peter, I’ve said I’m sorry.’ was hiding something.’
She began to cry. She cried for the girls she had Otley was very angry. That’s a lie. If John
seen that day, the prostitutes whose lives were so Shefford was alive….’
sad and so dangerous. Peter knelt down beside ‘He’s not alive, he’s dead, and now you’re
her, ‘I’m sorry, love. Let’s go to bed. We’ll talk protecting him. You requested the Oldham reports
tomorrow.’ because you knew Shefford was involved….’
Jane went to bed but she could not sleep. ‘That’s not true!’
Kernan interrupted. That’s enough! Calm down,
Next morning when she got up the kitchen was both of you!’
still full of dirty dishes and food as it had been the ‘Sir,’ Tennison said. ‘I’ve been working as hard as
night before. She put on her coat. I can to solve this case. George Marlow is still my
‘I’ve been thinking, Peter,’ she said. ‘I love you, only suspect for both of the London murders and
but you’re right. I put my work first. It is more a possible suspect for the murder of Jeannie
important to me than anything else. I don’t think I Sharpe.’

‘I don’t know anything about Jeannie Sharpe’s
murder,’ Otley said. ‘I know some of the officers
are friendly with these girls….’
‘Friendly!’ Kernan banged his hand on the desk.
‘Be quiet! Did Shefford think there was a
connection between the first murder and Jeannie
Sharpe?’
‘I don’t know,’ Otley replied. ‘I wanted to check
the case. When I read the report, I saw John’s
name. I wanted to see what it was about.’
Kernan nodded, then said, ‘You’ve got work to do.
You can go now.’
Otley hesitated. It was obvious Kernan wanted to
talk to Tennison by herself. He turned to her.
‘Maybe we got off to a bad start,’ he said. ‘I was
upset by John’s death. Maybe I should have taken
a holiday….’ She nodded.
After he had gone, Kernan said, ‘What do you
want to do?’
‘I want Otley taken off this case and I want an
officer I worked with before brought in. Detective
Amson. He’s a good man. And I want Marlow
watched all the time.’
Kernan nodded. He knew that this was the price
he must pay to hide the mistakes which Shefford
and Otley had made. As Tennison crossed the car
park Otley came over to her.
‘Look, I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I think we started
badly. Would you like to come for a drink so we
can talk?’
Tennison shook her head. ‘Has Kernan spoken to
you?’
Otley shook his head. ‘No. Look, I didn’t know
about John working on the Jeannie Sharpe case…’
‘Yes, you did,’ Tennison said quietly. ‘You’re off
the case, Bill. I’ve brought in someone else. And I
want the names of all the officers on this case
who have been friendly with prostitutes.’
Otley stared back at her but there was no anger
left in him.
She gave him a small nod and walked towards a
car that had just come into the car park. It was
driven by the new detective, Terry Amson.
‘Glad I’m back working with you,’ he said. ‘How’s
it going?’
Tennison smiled. ‘I think I’m doing OK.’
Otley’s sad figure was still standing there as they
drove away.
NINE
Terry Amson drove up the motorway. He and
Tennison were going to talk to the woman Marlow
had attacked before he was sent to prison.
Tennison told Amson what had happened in the
case up to that time.
14
‘We have three girls, Della Mornay, Karen Howard
and Jeannie Sharpe. All of them were tied in the
same way. I still think Marlow is the man.’
Pauline Gilling lived in a small house with her
father. It took her a long time to open the door
because it had so many locks.
She was about thirty-eight but she looked older.
She spoke in a soft voice as she told them about
the night Marlow attacked her.
‘It was the seventh of November, 1988, about
four-thirty in the afternoon. I worked in a flower
shop, but it was closed for the afternoon. I went
to the hairdresser’s.’
She was very nervous and kept coughing as she
forced herself to speak. ‘As I came up to the front
door, I heard somebody call my name. “Pauline!
Hello, Pauline!” I turned round and saw this man.
I didn’t recognise him. He was smiling and he
walked towards me. “Aren’t you going to invite
me in for a cup of tea, Pauline?” I said I was
sorry, I thought he’d mistaken me for somebody
else. Then he came very close and grabbed me by
the throat and started pushing me into the house.
He kept hitting me and I fell down, then he kicked
me.’ She stopped speaking.
After a moment, Tennison said, ‘And then your
father came in?’
‘Yes. He was upstairs. Daddy called my name and
the man ran away. My father is blind. He couldn’t
identify the man.’
‘But you were able to identify him?’
‘Oh yes,’ Pauline said. ‘He was clever, he had a
beard when he attacked me but he shaved it off
afterwards. But I recognized his eyes. I’ll never
forget his eyes… If my father hadn’t called out,
George Marlow would have killed me.’
Tennison crossed the room and sat beside Pauline
Gilling.
‘Thank you for telling me what happened. I’m
sorry you had to talk about it again.’
‘I think about it all the time,’ Pauline said. ‘Every
time someone knocks at the door or there’s a
strange sound at night, I expect him to come
back and kill me. I had to leave my job. I can’t
sleep. He should have been in prison for years but
they let him go after eighteen months. I’m
frightened that he’ll come back. He said he
would.’
As Tennison climbed back into the car, she said to
Amson, ‘Marlow had a beard when he attacked
her and then shaved it off! That matches what
the girls in Oldham told me. They thought that
Jeannie’s murderer had a beard.’
Two men were painting the row of garages near
Marlow’s house. A few yards away, Marlow stood,
his hands in his pockets, watching them. One of
the men went to his van for another tin of paint.

‘Excuse me, are you painting all of the garages?’
Marlow asked.
‘Just these,’ Detective Lillie said.
‘Most of the people around here park on the
road,’ Marlow went on. ‘My car was stolen from
here not long ago. It was a beautiful car, a Rover
Mark III, about twenty years old. I loved that car.
It had all these silver badges on the front.’
He continued talking as the two policemen went
on painting.
Late in the afternoon Tennison and Amson visited
Brixton Prison. They wanted to talk to Reginald
McKinney who had been a prisoner with Marlow.
‘You were in prison with Marlow, weren’t you?’
‘That’s right.’
‘And you met him again after you were both
released from prison?’ Tennison asked.
‘Yeah. I met him in London. We went for a meal
and then he drove me home. I offered to take the
train but he said he was driving near my house
because he wanted to do some work on his car at
his garage.’
Tennison was careful not to show how excited
she was. ‘He had a garage?’
‘Yeah. That car was really important to him. He
spent a lot of time on it.’
A prison guard looked round the door.
‘There’s a telephone call for DC Tennison.’
Tennison took the call. The officers had found
reports on two more bodies in the north of
England which had marks on them like those of
Karen Howard and Della Mornay.
Marlow was still talking to Rosper and Lillie when
the police cars arrived. Tennison jumped out of
the first car. She ran up to Muddyman.
‘Marlow has a garage in another area of London.
Search his flat for the keys. They must be
somewhere.’
Marlow watched them running towards his house.
‘I don’t believe they’re doing this,’ he said.
Moyra cried as she looked at the damage. The
police had rolled back the carpets and removed
the floor, they had moved all the furniture and
even looked inside the toilet.
Tennison and Amson examined all the keys they
had found.
‘Why are you doing this?’ Moyra shouted. ‘You’ve
searched the place before. Put everything back
where it should be!’
Tennison turned to Marlow.
‘You know what we’re looking for, George. Why
don’t you tell us where the keys are?’
‘I park my car out on the street. I don’t have a
garage.’
‘Your car isn’t always on the street. We’ve asked
the neighbours.’
‘When it’s not parked there I’m away on
business.’
15
‘George,’ Tennison said, ‘we know you have a
garage. A friend of yours told us.’
‘What friend? I don’t have any friends because of
you! Now you’ve made people think I’m a
murderer…’
‘We have a witness who says you told him you
have a garage….’
‘Was it someone I was in prison with? Let me
guess. It was Reg McKinney wasn’t it?’ Marlow
laughed. ‘You must be desperate if you believe
him. He’s crazy. He and I had an argument - he’s
no friend of mine.’
There was a knock on the door and Amson came
in.
‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘We haven’t found any keys.’
In a low voice, Marlow said, ‘I don’t have a
garage. If I had, maybe I would still have my car.’
Amson drove Tennison home. She was pleased to
have a friend working with her. She knew that
she could talk to Amson, that he was on her side.
‘If he’s hidden his car, we’ll find it,’ Amson said.
‘What do you think of Marlow?’
‘If he’s lying, then he’s very good at it.’
‘Yes,’ Tennison said with a sigh. ‘For the first time
tonight I doubted that he’s the murderer. What
about Shefford?’
‘As a suspect? He was one of the best police
officers I’ve ever met.’
‘He was also in the area when Karen, Della and
Jeannie were killed. We’re going to have to check
him out. I want you to look through all his files
tomorrow. And don’t tell anyone what you’re
doing.’
Jane reached for the light switch. The apartment
was quiet. She put down her bag and took off her
coat, shouting ‘Peter? Peter?’
There was no answer. She opened the kitchen
door. The room was clean and tidy. The bedroom
was the same. She opened the cupboard to put
her coat away. One half of it was empty. She
checked all the cupboards and drawers - all
Peter’s clothes were missing!
In the bathroom there was only one toothbrush
and one towel. As she stood by the door, the
telephone rang. She picked up the phone. Next to
it was a letter.
‘Jane, it’s Mum. Your sister Pam has just had a
baby, a little girl….’
‘Hello Mum,’ Jane said as she tore open the
envelope.
The letter contained only one piece of paper.
‘I listened to what you said this morning. I can’t
live with you or your work. I’m sorry to leave you
like this but I think it will be best for both of us. I
still love you, but I can’t see a future for our
relationship. Maybe in a few weeks we can meet
and talk.’

As she drove to the hospital to see Pam, she
wondered if all her relationships would end like
this. Peter was not the first man who had left her
because she didn’t have enough time. She’d never
been able to stay with a man for more than a few
months.
She parked the car and looked at herself in the
mirror. She looked terrible. Her hair needed
washing and she needed fresh make-up.
It was late and there were only a few visitors in
the hospital. A nurse told her which room to go
to. When she reached the door she looked
through the window and saw Pam holding the
new baby. Pam’s husband Tony sat with his arm
around her shoulders. Their two other children
were sitting on the bed. Watching them, Jane’s
hand tightened on the door handle. They looked
like a perfect family, a family to which she did not
belong. She turned away and walked slowly back
down the corridor.
Later she went back. When she went into the
room Pam wasn’t there but the baby lay in its
bed. Jane moved the blanket to look more closely
at the baby’s face.
Pam came back and they talked until a nurse
came in and said that it was time for Jane to
leave.
‘Give my love to Peter,’ Pam said.
‘If I see him I will. It’s finished.’
Pam was upset. ‘Oh no! Why? Is there someone
else?’
‘No, there’s no one else. We both agreed that it
was better to finish it.’
‘Well,’ Pam said, ‘you know what you’re doing.
Have you solved that case we saw on television?’
Jane paused before she answered. Her family did
not understand anything about her work. They
did not understand her or how she felt about
Peter leaving.
‘No, I haven’t got him… yet. Goodnight. I’ll see
you again soon.’
16
As she closed the door only the expression in
Jane’s eyes showed how lonely she felt. Now all
she wanted was to go home and cry.
TEN
‘What do you think you’ve been doing?’ Kernan
demanded.
‘We had good reason to search Marlow’s
apartment….’
‘I’m not talking about Marlow! Why has Amson
been looking through Shefford’s files? Are you so
desperate to find a murderer that you’re accusing
him?’
‘I talked to Amson last night….’
‘Leave it, Jane! There’s no evidence that Shefford
was involved.’
‘I’m sorry, but I think….’ He did not let her finish.
‘You’ve been all over the country trying to find
evidence against one of the best officers I’ve ever
worked with. I’m bringing in Chief Detective
Officer Hickock to take over. As soon as he
arrives, you’re off the case.’
Amson came running down towards her as she
left Kernan’s office. ‘We’ve found another murder
that links with the others. It happened in
Blackburn in 1987. That means there’s been one
murder every year except for the time Marlow
was in prison. Everyone is waiting for you in the
meeting room.’
‘What about Shefford?’ Tennison asked. ‘Did he
investigate this murder as well?’
‘No.’
‘Good,’ Tennison said.
At least thirty people were waiting for her. Some
of them were drinking coffee and eating
sandwiches; the rest were talking. The noise was
very loud.
Burkin and two other officers came in after
Tennison. They had been upstairs with the
superintendent.
‘What happened?’ Muddyman asked.
‘We got into trouble for being too friendly with
some of the prostitutes. Only a warning this time.
I think Tennison gave us some support. Maybe
she’s not so bad after all. Have you heard?
They’re saying that Hickock might be taking over
the case.’
‘Quiet, please,’ Tennison shouted. ‘Now, we need
to look at this case again. Perhaps we’ve missed
something.’
Amson switched on a video which showed the
bodies of the girls who had been murdered.
‘Karen Howard, the first victim. Her body was
found in Della Mornay’s apartment and mistaken

for her. Look at the marks on her arms. The next
victim was Della Mornay. She was killed about six
weeks before Karen and her body was hidden in a
field. Look at the marks on her arms - almost the
same as those on Karen’s body. Jeannie Sharpe,
killed in Oldham in 1984. Again, note the marks
and cuts. Angela Simpson, murdered in a park in
1985.’ He showed a picture of a pretty young girl.
‘She was a hairdresser. She was getting married.
Marlow was interviewed during the investigation.
He was staying in a hotel fifty yards away from
the park where Angela was found. There were no
marks on her arms, but look at this.’
He showed a photograph of Angela’s body. ‘The
knot in the rope which tied her hands is the same
as the others. The fifth girl was Sharon Reed. She
was sixteen, still at school. She worked part-time
in a beauty shop….’
When he finished they stopped for lunch. The
men continued discussing the case as they ate
their meal. Burkin was talking to Muddyman.
‘I’ve been following Marlow for weeks. He’s a
friendly man, he talks to us every day. Just
because he was in the area when the murders
happened doesn’t mean that he’s guilty.’
‘We know he lied about the garage, though,’
Amson said.
‘Yeah, but we only have the word of Reginald
McKinney about that.’
Someone called for Tennison. Kernan wanted to
speak to her.
‘Looks like the boss is going to be taken off the
case,’ Burkin said.
Maureen Havers found Tennison hiding in the
ladies toilet. ‘Is Hickock a big, red-haired man?
He’s in with the commander and Kernan. They’re
looking for you.’
‘Then they’ll have to find me,’ Tennison said.
She went back to the meeting room to continue
talking to the men.
‘Right! We now have six victims but no real
connection between them. They didn’t know each
other. They didn’t look like each other, they were
different ages, had different jobs. The only link is
that Marlow was in the area when they were
murdered. Did he kill all six? Have we missed
something, another link?’
Muddyman waved to get Tennison’s attention.
‘A witness said they heard a man call out Karen’s
name. The same with Jeannie. The woman who
was attacked, Pauline Gilling, she said the man
knew her name….’
‘I see what you mean,’ Amson said. ‘How did he
know their names?’
17
Havers pushed to the front of the crowd. She put
up her hand as if she wanted to say something,
then lowered it again.
She moved closer and touched Tennison’s arm.
‘Boss… this may be crazy but….’
‘Anything might help,’ Tennison said. ‘What have
you got?’
‘There is a connection between the others.’
‘To Marlow?’
‘No, to Moyra Henson. When I questioned Moyra
she said she didn’t have a job. About fifteen years
ago she was arrested as a prostitute and then she
said she worked as a beautician. If she worked
when she travelled with Marlow, then perhaps he
met the girls through her….’
‘Good for you!’ Tennison said. ‘We’ll check it out.’
Jones came in carrying some papers
‘This might be useful, boss. I’ve checked Marlow’s
address. He’s lived in this house for three years.
Before that he lived near St Pancras Station. He’s
had his car for twelve years. He might have a
garage near his old house.’
The phone rang. Muddyman answered it. ‘Boss?
You’re wanted upstairs. Shall I tell them you’re
here?’
‘No! Go and bring Moyra in.’
Moyra was not happy at being taken to the
station. ‘What do you want this time?’ she
shouted.
Marlow followed her out of the house. ‘Do you
want me as well?’
Tennison got out of her car. ‘Not this time,
George.’
They left him standing there, trying to understand
what was happening.
Tennison checked that Kernan had left the
station, then went to interview Moyra.
‘I am Chief Detective Officer Tennison. Thank you
for agreeing to answer our questions….’
‘I didn’t agree. You made me,’ Moyra interrupted.
Tennison opened a file. ‘You came here on the
sixteenth of January, is that correct?’
‘If you say so.’
‘You said that you didn’t have a job.’
‘Yes. What’s that got to do with anything?’
Tennison took out another sheet of paper. ‘In
1975 we interviewed you. You said then that you
were a beautician.’
‘So?’
‘Were you also a hairdresser?’
Moyra was getting annoyed. ‘No.’
‘But you are a beautician?’
‘Yeah! I do people’s faces, hands, nails. You could
do with some help,’ she said nastily.
‘I want to know where you were on these dates.’
Tennison listed the dates of the murders.
‘I don’t know!’ Moyra shouted.

‘They were dates when George travelled to
Warrington, Oldham, Burnley, Rochdale….’
Moyra looked up. ‘Oh, in that case I was with him.
I always travel with him.’
‘So on those dates you were with George? Were
you working as well?’
‘Yes, sometimes. I work in beauty shops when I’m
in those places.’
‘I want a list of all your customers,’ Tennison said.
Half an hour later, Moyra was beginning to look
tired.
‘I’ve made a list of all my customers. They come
to me to have their nails painted.’
‘What do you mean?’ Tennison asked.
Moyra showed her own hands. ‘See, my nails look
real but they’re not. The false nail is painted on.’
‘Interesting,’ Tennison said. ‘Did you do Pauline
Gilling’s nails?’
‘I don’t know,’ Moyra replied. ‘I have a lot of
customers, I can’t remember all their names.’
‘Surely you’d remember Pauline. She’s the woman
George was sent to prison for attacking.’ Tennison
pushed a photograph of Pauline across the table.
Moyra refused to look at the picture.
‘No! She lied. George didn’t do anything to her.’
‘What about Della Mornay? Was she your
customer?’
Tennison pushed another photograph across.
‘No!’
‘Look at her, Moyra. Della Mornay.’
‘I don’t know her.’
‘No? You said that George came home on the
night of the thirteenth of January at ten thirty….’
Moyra began to fight back. ‘Look, I’ve had
enough. Either you let me go home or I want my
lawyer here.’
‘Where is George’s car, Moyra? We know he has a
garage. Where is it? We’ll find it, Moyra. It’s just a
question of time.’
Tennison stood up.
‘OK, you can go now, but I’ll want to talk to you
again.’
It was morning when Moyra got home. George
made her a cup of coffee.
‘What did she want to know?’ he asked.
‘What do you think?’ Moyra asked. She went into
the bedroom and took off her blouse and skirt.
Marlow followed her.
‘What happened at the police station?’
‘They asked me about Pauline Gilling. They kept
asking me about her. I’ve supported you, George,
but if I find out you’ve been lying to me….’
‘I’ve never lied to you, Moyra. You know that.’ He
reached out to touch her but she pushed his hand
away.
‘Where’s the car, George?’
‘It was stolen. I don’t know where it is.’
18
‘It wasn’t here, George. You came home that
night without it. I remember because your hair
was wet and you said it was raining.’
She turned and looked at him. ‘Is it in the garage?
They’re going to get you because of that car. If
the police find it they can make sure that they
“find” evidence in it. They want to get you.’
‘Boss! Some new photographs of Karen have
arrived.’
Tennison turned away from the mirror where she
had been brushing her hair. ‘I’m on my way.’
‘Everybody is waiting for you in the meeting
room. And… Kernan is there.’
Tennison looked worried. ‘OK.’
When she went into the meeting room, Kernan
was standing in the middle of the officers. The
moment she entered the room everybody stopped
talking.
‘You wanted to see me, sir?’
‘Just for a few minutes.’ Kernan pointed to the
door and told Amson to carry on.
‘This was on my desk when I came in,’ Kernan
said, handing her a sheet of paper. ‘The officers
on your team have supported you one hundred
per cent. They all signed this paper to say that
they don’t want Hickock to take over. Did you
know about this?’
Every single man on the team had signed.
Tennison’s eyes filled with tears.
‘No…. No, I didn’t.’
‘You’re lucky.’
‘Luck had nothing to do with it, sir. We’ve worked
hard together on this case.’
He smiled. ‘Let me have any new information
straight away.’
Tennison went back into the room. The men were
listening to Maureen Havers.
‘These photographs were taken on the day Karen
died. You can see that her nails were short. But
these photographs were taken a week before.
Look at her fingernails.’ The nails were long and
red.
Amson turned to Jones. ‘Speak to her friends at
the apartment. Find out where she went to have
her nails painted.’
All the officers turned to examine the
photographs. None of them looked at Tennison.
Very embarrassed, she walked to the centre of
the room.
‘I just want to say how grateful I am for what you
did, for supporting me….’
Muddyman ran in, interrupting her. ‘The suspect
and his girlfriend are leaving their house, boss.’

Jones came back to Tennison. He had spoken to
Karen’s friend on the telephone. ‘Karen had her
nails done at a shop in Covent Garden.’
‘Get down there,’ Amson said. ‘Take Rosper with
you.’
‘OK, let’s go,’ Tennison said. ‘Amson, you come
with me.’
In a moment the room was empty except for
Maureen Havers. She looked at the photographs
of Karen Howard. She had a beautiful face, young
and innocent. The most important thing to
Maureen and everyone else on the team was to
catch the murderer before another girl died.
ELEVEN
As her car moved quickly through the traffic,
Tennison listened to the reports on the car radio.
Detective Oakhill reported George Marlow’s and
Moyra Henson’s movements. The suspect is
leaving the taxi with Henson. They’re going into
Great Portland Street Station. Now they’ve
separated. She’s gone down to the trains and he’s
coming out of the north side of the station.’
Haskins interrupted. ‘I can see him! I’m following
him. He’s getting into another taxi….’
‘We’ll go straight to Euston Station,’ Tennison
said. ‘See if we can find him there.’
George Marlow leaned in at the taxi window to
speak to the driver and pointed towards Euston,
but when he got into the taxi it turned left
towards Camden Town.
A car moved in behind the taxi and followed it.
Muddyman reported back on the radio.
‘We’re following him. He’s turned back towards
Euston Road.’
The black taxi drove down a narrow street and
reached the corner of Euston Road. The traffic
was heavy and the taxi slowed down. Marlow
immediately jumped out and ran into a shop.
‘This is Muddyman. Marlow’s left the taxi; it is
now empty. Repeat, the taxi is empty.’
A young man on a bicycle slowed down by the
side of the pavement. He spoke quietly into a
radio. ‘I’ve got him. He’s going down Euston Road
again.’
On the opposite side of the road, Muddyman had
left the police car and was following on foot.
Oakhill nearly lost Moyra Henson in the station,
but he managed to get on the same train before
the doors closed. He walked through the train
until he was standing close to her. Moyra was
19
staring out of the window of the train. She did not
know that Oakhill was following her.
Amson looked at a map. ‘He could be heading for
Euston Station or King’s Cross Station….’
‘Just a minute,’ Tennison said. A message came
through on the radio.
‘Marlow’s jumped on a bus… no, he’s jumped off
it again… he’s behind King’s Cross Station….’
‘There are garages behind the station,’ Amson
said.
The voice came over the radio again. ‘Suspect has
gone into a café….’
‘What’s he doing?’ Tennison asked angrily.
D C Jones was checking out the beauty shops
where Moyra had worked. He spoke to the owner
of one shop and showed her a picture of Karen
Howard.
‘Have you ever done this girl’s nails?’
The woman looked at the picture and shook her
head. ‘I don’t know. I do lots of people….’
‘Look at her again. She was found murdered on
the fourteenth of January.’
‘January? I wasn’t here in January. I was on
holiday and my friend was working here.’
‘What’s the name and address of your friend?’
Jones asked.
The cafe was very small. George Marlow stood at
the counter drinking coffee. When the only other
customer in the cafe left, Marlow spoke to the
owner. ‘Can I have the keys, Stav?’
Stavros pulled a box out from beneath the
counter. ‘I haven’t seen you for a while, John,’ he
said. ‘Have you been away?
‘Yeah,’ Marlow said. ‘How much do I owe you?’
Moyra Henson changed trains twice and finally
came out at Oxford Street. With Oakhill following
her, she walked from one shop to the next,
looking through windows at the clothes and
shoes.
A message came through to Tennison from Jones.
‘I’ve found the shop where Moyra was working in

January. Karen used to come here to get her nails
painted. And when Moyra worked here, Marlow
used to meet her after she finished. If Moyra did
Karen’s nails, Marlow could have seen her when
he came to the shop, and found out her name….’
‘Did you hear that?’ Tennison asked Amson.
‘George could have found out all the girls’ names
if they were customers of Moyra’s.’
‘So she knew what he was doing?’
‘Looks like it.’
Tennison told Oakhill to arrest Moyra and take her
back to the police station.
Another message came through. ‘I’ve got Marlow!
He’s just passed me. He’s walking towards the
garages on Battle Bridge Road….’
‘Yes!’ Tennison shouted. ‘He’s going to the
garages. I knew it! I knew it!’ She gave her orders
over the radio. ‘Everybody stay back. Don’t
frighten him. Stay where you are until we’re ready
to get him.’
The team closed in around Marlow. He did not see
them, did not realise that the mechanic bending
over an old car, the man on the bicycle carrying a
ladder, the two people in the van which drove
past, were all police officers.
George Marlow reached the corner of the road
where it ran beneath the railway lines. He paused,
looking around carefully to see if anybody was
following him.
‘Don’t move,’ Tennison instructed over the radio.
‘Let him get inside the garage before you grab
him.’
Marlow walked slowly, turning the key around his
finger. He approached a garage which looked as it
nobody had used it for years.
Tennison’s voice was quiet. ‘I want him to use the
keys, everybody wait… wait….’
After another long look around, Marlow chose one
key and put it in the lock of the garage door.
‘He’s going in!’ Muddyman whispered. ‘He’s
opening the door.’
The door opened and Marlow stepped inside.
Tennison shouted, ‘Go! Go! Go!’
Police cars screamed into the street. Rosper,
Caplan, Lillie and Muddyman ran from their hiding
places and surrounded Marlow. Rosper, the first
there, grabbed him by the shoulders, almost
tearing the coat off him as he dragged him from
the door. All the officers wanted to get Marlow
and they handled him roughly.
Tennison’s car arrived. She was about to get out
when she hesitated, to give the officers a chance
to finish the arrest. At that moment, for no more
20
than a few seconds, she saw another side to the
character of her suspect.
Marlow seemed unconcerned at being arrested. In
fact, he was unnaturally calm. He looked at
Rosper and Lillie, and Tennison could see by the
expression on his face that he was angry with
himself.
‘You… the painter near my house!’
He had not suspected they were police officers;
he had trusted them. He had been foolish, made
a mistake. That was why he was angry.
Moyra Henson came out of a clothes shop
carrying a large bag. Oakhill and Woman Police
Officer Southill came up behind her.
‘Moyra Henson, I would like you to come with us
to the police station….’
Moyra swung her bag to hit Southill in the face
then kicked at her, screaming that she wanted to
be left alone. Her screams echoed down the
street. Suddenly she stopped and put her hands
over her face.
‘Please leave me alone! I just want to be left
alone. Don’t touch me. I’ll come with you, just
don’t touch me.’
She allowed herself to be led to the waiting police
car.
The garage was very big. Water came through
the roof forming pools on the floor. The far end
was dark. Near the centre of the garage was a
large, covered shape. ‘Watch where you stand,’
Tennison ordered. ‘Are there any lights?’
Someone switched on the lights. Tennison
approached the middle of the room. She raised
the covers.
‘Well, we’ve got the car! There’s no radio in it. I
want this car checked over for evidence.’
Amson was walking towards her. She stepped
back, knocking in to him. As she turned to tell him
to be careful, she looked past him to the far end
of the garage.
‘Oh, God,’ she whispered. ‘This is where he did it.’
On the wall were heavy chains and a collection of
sharpened tools and knives.
‘Who will you question first?’ Kernan asked
Tennison.
‘Moyra. She was lying when she said Marlow was
with her on the night Karen was murdered.’
‘Right, Jane, and… well done!’
‘Not done yet,’ she replied. ‘Not yet.’
Moyra sat smoking a cigarette. Her lawyer was
beside her. Tennison could feel the change in her;
Moyra was afraid.
Tennison spoke to Moyra’s lawyer. ‘Mr Shrapnel?
You know that we haven’t arrested Moyra yet, but
she’s agreed to help us by answering some
questions.’ The lawyer nodded.

For the first time since entering the room,
Tennison looked straight at Moyra.
‘At twelve forty-five today, we entered George
Marlow’s garage in King’s Cross. We found a
brown Rover car there. When I spoke to you last,
you said you didn’t know where the car was. Is
that true?’
‘I didn’t know anything,’ Moyra said. ‘I thought it
was stolen.’
‘You also said that George came home at ten-
thirty on the night of the thirteenth of January.’
Moyra nodded.
‘When I interviewed you, you said that you didn’t
know any of the girls who were murdered.’ She
put down a picture of Della Mornay. ‘You and
Della Mornay were in court together in 1971,
charged with prostitution.’
Moyra did not react. Tennison put down another
photograph.
‘Karen Howard was a customer at the shop in
Covent Garden where you worked in January.’
Tennison put down two more photographs.
‘Moyra, look at these. If you don’t want to look at
Della, then look at Karen. George called out to
her, offered to take her home in his car. He took
her back to the garage and he murdered her. But
first he cut her and beat her and tied her body to
chains on the wall. Look at her, Moyra!’
Slowly Moyra picked up the photographs. She
stared at each one, then covered the one of
Karen’s body with her hands.
‘Would you get the men to leave, just the women
stay… I won’t talk in front of them.’
Amson led Shrapnel out of the room. Moyra
began to speak.
‘I didn’t know Della, I didn’t even remember her
from 1971. But I did her nails… she came in
sometimes if one was broken and I fixed it for
her.’
Tennison nodded. Moyra did not really want to
talk about Della, that was not why she wanted the
men to leave the room. There was something
else. Moyra sat forward and spoke very quietly.
‘He… did it to me once,’ she whispered. ‘He made
this thing… with rope and chains to tie me up. It
hurt me. He said it made sex better. I didn’t like
it. I wouldn’t do it again.’
She hung her head. ‘I didn’t know… I didn’t know.
God forgive me, I didn’t know….’
Moyra put her face in her hands and began to cry.
Amson and Muddyman were leaning against the
wall outside the room when Tennison opened the
door.
‘George Marlow was home by ten-thirty that night
but he went out again at a quarter to eleven. She
doesn’t know what time he returned.’
Tennison stood very straight, head up, eyes
bright. ‘We’ve got him,’ she said quietly.
21
In the garage at King’s Cross, officers examined
the car and took photographs. Jones and Burkin
were looking inside a cupboard.
‘Look at this!’ Burkin said. He held up some
rubber gloves. They found clothes - shirts,
trousers and coats, all clean and wrapped in
plastic bags.
The two men examined the floor.
‘There’s blood here… and this looks like skin…
God, the smell!’
Burkin found a handbag. Inside there was a
purse.
‘It’s Karen Howard’s.’
Jones did not understand how it happened. One
moment he was doing his job, looking at the
evidence, and the next he was crying like a child.
He stood there unable to stop the tears streaming
down his face.
Burkin put an arm around his shoulders. ‘Go and
get some coffee, OK?’
‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I don’t know what made me
get like this….’
‘It’s OK. We all go through it, Dave,’ Burkin said.
Tennison switched on the tape machine and
began talking.
‘This is Chief Detective Officer Jane Tennison.
Also present are Detective Terence Amson and Mr
Arnold Upcher. We are in room 5-C at
Southampton Row Police Station’ The date is
Thursday the first of February 1990. The time is
four forty five pm.’
She nodded to Marlow. ‘Please give your full
name, address and date of birth.’
He sat forward and spoke into the machine.
‘George Arthur Marlow, twenty one High Grove
Estate, Maida Vale. Born in Warrington, eleventh
September 1951.’
‘Do you understand why you are under arrest?’
‘I guess so.’
‘We have arrested you as a suspect for the
murders of Karen Howard and Della Mornay. Do
you understand?’ Tennison asked.
‘I’m not guilty.’ Marlow turned and looked at
Upcher.
‘Please tell me what happened when you met
Karen Howard on January thirteenth.’
‘I didn’t know her name, I was told her name
later,’ Marlow began. ‘She approached me. I
asked her how much she wanted. We had sex
and I paid her. I didn’t know her, I’d never met or
seen her before. Then I took her back to the
station….’
‘What about the cut on her hand? You said she
cut it on the car radio.’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘We now know there is no radio in your car.’
Marlow did not react to her words. ‘I was home at
ten thirty….’
‘What time did you next leave the house?’

‘I didn’t. I watched television with my wife.’
‘Your wife told us that you left the house again at
fifteen minutes to eleven. She can’t remember
when you came back, but you returned without
your car. She says that your car wasn’t stolen
from outside the house.’
‘She’s wrong! My car was stolen, I never went out
again.’
‘You say that you didn’t know Karen Howard?’
‘Yeah, I’d never met her before that night….’
‘Moyra admits that she knew Karen - she did her
nails at a shop in Covent Garden. You were there
at the time and spoke to Karen. Is that true?’
‘No.’ Marlow shook his head.
‘You also said you didn’t know Della Mornay.
Moyra says that you did.’
Marlow sat back in his chair and folded his arms.
‘I don’t believe you. You must have made Moyra
say that. She’s scared of you - I’m not!’
22
Upcher jumped to his feet. Tennison sat and
stared at Marlow, then she said, ‘Could you repeat
that?’
Marlow closed his eyes. She could see every line
of his handsome face. He wet his top lip with his
tongue, then he opened his eyes. Tennison
recorded every movement in her mind. He put his
head to one side. Nobody in the room moved,
they all looked at Marlow, at his strange,
frightening smile.
‘I said I did it.’

The team were waiting in the meeting room.

Jones asked, ‘How’s the boss? She must be
exhausted.’
Burkin shook his head. ‘It’s taking a long time.’

Marlow looked tired. ‘How many more times do I

There was nothing else to say. Marlow seemed
have to tell you?’
completely comfortable. Eventually Tennison
‘What happened this morning?’ Tennison asked.
spoke, ‘Please sit down, George.’
‘Somebody called me, didn’t give his name. He
She watched him carefully as she asked, ‘What
said he’d seen my car on the television and he
did you do?’
knew where it was. At King’s Cross.’
He counted his fingers as he spoke the names.
‘He told you your car was in a garage at King’s
‘Karen, Della, Angela, Sharon, Ellen and….’ He
Cross? You were seen unlocking the doors.’
screwed up his eyes, trying to remember, ‘and
He answered angrily. ‘The man on the phone said
Jeannie. That’s right, Jeannie….’
I could get the keys from the cafe. I got the keys
but I didn’t find my car because just as I opened
George Arthur Marlow had just admitted killing six
the door, the police jumped on me! I don’t know
women.
why I have to keep telling you this.’

Tennison showed no sign of impatience as she TWELVE

said, ‘The man in the cafe said he rented the
garage to a man called John Smith. He also
cleaned your clothes for you, didn’t he?’
Marlow shook his head. Tennison continued,
‘Come on, George, how did you get Karen into
Della’s apartment? Where are the keys? You knew
the place was empty, didn’t you? You knew
because Della was already dead.’
‘I’m not saying any more,’ Marlow said. He turned
to Upcher. ‘Tell her that’s enough! I want to go
home.’
‘That isn’t possible, George,’ Upcher said quietly.
‘I want to see Moyra! I want to go home!’ Marlow
was getting very angry.
‘We can have a fifteen minute break,’ Tennison
said. ‘You can’t see Moyra.’
After Marlow was taken away, Tennison lit a
cigarette. Catching Marlow had exhausted her,
taken away from her the man she loved, stopped
her sleeping and nearly lost her job. She sat
quietly and smoked her cigarette until it was
finished.
Jones ran into the bar of the local pub where the
other officers were waiting. ‘He’s admitted it! All
six of them, he’s admitted killing them all!’
The team rose to their feet and began cheering.
An officer from another police station asked
Havers, ‘What’s going on?’
‘Our boss just got a suspect to admit to six
murders! Biggest case this station’s ever had….’

Suddenly Marlow stood up. ‘This is a mess, isn’t Tennison faced Kernan across his desk.
it? All right, I did it.’

‘Well done,’ he said. ‘The trial will take a long
time, but you go home now and get some sleep.
You deserve it.’
‘Yeah, I need it. It was a long night.’
The phone rang and Kernan answered it. ‘Yes…
just a minute,’
‘You were right,’ he said to Tennison. The
beautician link… it was a woman’s case after all!’
‘Fifty per cent of murder victims are women, so I
should have plenty of work to do!’ Tennison
replied. ‘Woman’s case!’ she said to herself, still
angry at Kernan’s remark. She saw Maureen
Havers. ‘Maureen, are any of the officers here?’
‘Oh, I think they’ve gone home,’ Havers replied.
‘They were all tired - it’s been a long day. Jenkins
wants the meeting room cleaned out. He asked if
you could go down there before you leave.’
The meeting room was full of people. Every
member of the team was there. Someone called,
‘Here she is!’ and they all watched as the handle
of the door turned.
Tennison walked in to cheers and whistles. A
huge bunch of flowers was put in her arms and
Burkin started shouting, ‘Three cheers for the
boss!’
‘I thought you’d all gone home,’ Tennison
laughed. She bit her lip, but the tears still came.
Then she started laughing through her tears. ‘We
did it! We got him!’
23
The young man began to cry when he heard
Angela’s name. The years between Angela’s death
and the arrest of Marlow had been very hard. For
five years he had wondered if perhaps he could
have saved her. For five years he had lived
without the girl he loved and wanted to marry.
‘… and in October 1987 you murdered Sharon
Reed….’
Sharon’s father sat at the back of the court.
Sharon’s mother had died three years ago. He
had lost his daughter and then his wife. Every day
he remembered them….
Tennison kept her head down, avoiding looking at
Marlow. She looked up suddenly as the door
opened and a dark figure walked in. It was
Moyra, and she looked twenty years older.
‘George Arthur Marlow, you have heard the
charges. Are you guilty or not guilty?’
Tennison looked at him. He was very handsome
with his dark eyes and shining hair. He looked
back at her and as their eyes met, he seemed to
smile.
‘Not guilty,’ he replied.
THE END

Many months later, George Marlow stood in court

as the charges against him were read out.
‘George Arthur Marlow, you are accused of
murdering Karen Howard on the thirteenth of
January 1990….’

Karen’s mother and father could not look at him.

He had taken their daughter and murdered her;
waiting for him to be caught had been the worst
part of their lives. Marlow had not only destroyed
their daughter, he had destroyed them.
‘… that on the third of December 1989 you
murdered Della Mornay…’ Two prostitutes, friends
of Della’s, sat forward to look at the murderer.
‘… on the fifteenth of March 1984, you murdered
Jeannie Sharpe, that in January 1985 you
murdered Ellen Harding….’

Carol and Linda had travelled down from Oldham.

Linda could only see the top of Marlow’s head,
Jeannie had wanted so much from life but she got
nothing, nobody to help her or love her.
Carol twisted her handkerchief in her hands. She
could still remember Marlow calling Jeannie’s
name.
A young man sitting near Carol sat forward and
stared at Marlow.
‘… that in July 1986 you murdered Angela
Simpson….’